Heinz History Center named best history museum by USA Today readers
The Smithsonian-affiliated museum again earned the Best History Museum in America from USA Today as part of its annual Readers' Choice Awards. The museum was nominated by a panel of industry experts, then chosen as the best by the public.
'We are honored that USA TODAY has selected the History Center as America's best history museum for the second time,' said Andy Masich, president and CEO of the History Center. 'At the History Center, visitors of all ages can have a meaningful experience while exploring American history. This national recognition means a lot to our staff and volunteers. It reflects the impact we have on communities here in Western Pennsylvania and throughout the country.'
Click here for the full list of museums nominated for the award.
Download the FREE WPXI News app for breaking news alerts.
Follow Channel 11 News on Facebook and Twitter. | Watch WPXI NOW
Hashtags
Try Our AI Features
Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:
Comments
No comments yet...
Related Articles
Eater
27 minutes ago
- Eater
The Best Sonoran Hot Dogs in Phoenix, Arizona
There's no single dish more tied to Arizona's cross-border food identity than the Sonoran hot dog. A bacon-wrapped frank sinks into a bolillo-style bun, then disappears under beans, tomatoes, onions, zigzags of mayonnaise and mustard, and a spoonful of fresh or pickled jalapeños. It traces its roots to Hermosillo, the capital of Sonora, where American-style hot dogs were first wrapped in bacon and sold near baseball stadiums in the 1960s and 1970s. The snack took off with university students, then moved north, crossing into Tucson in the late 1980s. From there, it spread across the state. In Phoenix, it started on street corners and gas station lots and now shows up everywhere from food trucks to sit-down restaurants. Still, the sidewalk stand remains the dish's cornerstone.
Epoch Times
5 hours ago
- Epoch Times
The ‘Trad Wife' Debate Misses the Point
As many people who follow my journey know, I had children later in life. By the time I became a mother, my life was already shaped in certain ways. I was more the breadwinner in our family—or at least the public face of the enterprise my husband and I have worked hard to build together. Now, with a return to 'traditional values' sweeping parts of the country, I see criticism coming from both directions. On the left, the message is often: 'Don't just have children—do something more with your life!' Motherhood is portrayed as too small, too limiting, even oppressive. On the right, it's 'Stay home, don't work, and let your husband provide.' The recent New York Times piece on Ballerina Farm's founder, Hannah Neeleman, written by Megan Agnew, tried to cast her as an oppressed woman whose life couldn't possibly be as wonderful as it appears. Yet more traditional or conservative voices also criticize her—for working too much, for not being 'at home' enough. The irony is that none of this is truly traditional. The image of the man leaving for ten hours a day while the woman stays home with the children really emerged in factory culture in the early 1900s. Before that, industry was in the home. Husbands and wives worked together as blacksmiths, shoemakers, tailors, bakers—running family enterprises where the children were underfoot, learning the trade as they grew. For only a short fraction of American history—mainly the post–World War II decades into the early 1970s—was it considered 'normal' for a man to go off to work while his wife stayed home with the children full-time. That model was largely a product of economic prosperity, suburban expansion, and postwar advertising—not a timeless tradition. Before and after that brief window, families across America worked together in agriculture, trades, and small businesses. We shouldn't mistake nostalgia for accuracy, or imagine that the 1950s image of 'traditional' is the only—or even the best—path forward. In reality, when men and women both contribute to a home enterprise, they bring unique strengths that serve not just the family's income but its entire way of life. Children in these environments learn enterprise, problem-solving, negotiation, decision-making, and how to navigate complex situations long before they ever fill out a résumé. In that way, Hannah's work is actually closer to tradition than many critics realize. At Ballerina Farm, she and her husband run multiple enterprises—some in the home, some outside—but all connected, with the family working together. That's also my reality. If you visit The Barn restaurant at Sovereignty Ranch, my kids might burst through the door, hair windblown, sticks and dirt clinging to them. They'll run to give me a hug or ask for pancakes, maybe beg for a popsicle from the farm store, and then run back into the wild of the farm. We've also built a small homeschool on the ranch, where a teacher comes for three hours each morning to focus on reading, writing, and math. The rest of their education comes from the farm, the restaurant, and our other enterprises. They do everything from helping with newborn calves to brainstorming Instagram video ideas. They often ask how much something costs, how much we'll sell it for, whether that's a lot of money, how much the mortgage is, or how many products we need to sell to make a car payment. In many ways, these questions—and the real-world math, economics, and decision-making they lead to—are more valuable than much of what children learn in conventional classrooms. This model may not be perfect, but it is far better than my life in California—driving an hour and twenty minutes each way, working more than eight hours, then commuting another three, and leaving them with others or dragging them along just to spend time together. We need to remember what 'traditional' really was—and what it still can be. We need more small, home-based enterprises where kids are involved and learn by doing. My children set up tables for big party reservations, wipe down tables, bus dishes, put stickers on hot sauce bottles, help bottle vinegar—and as they get older, their responsibilities will grow, and they'll be intimately connected to the work that sustains our family. I won't pretend I never feel guilt about working so much or wishing life was different. But I am grateful that God, in His grace, blessed us with children later in life and allowed us to weave them into our daily work, rather than relegating them to schools, babysitters, or screens. Maybe my home doesn't fit a perfect 'traditional' mold. But in the truest sense—family working together, children learning responsibility, life lived with purpose—it's as traditional as it gets.
Newsweek
6 hours ago
- Newsweek
In Neutral World War II Sweden, One American Couple Found Love
Based on facts, either observed and verified firsthand by the reporter, or reported and verified from knowledgeable sources. Newsweek AI is in beta. Translations may contain inaccuracies—please refer to the original content. Stockholm was among the most romantic places to be in Europe during World War II, according to Pat DiGeorge. It's where her parents, Herman Allen and Hedvig Johnson Allen, met in 1944, she said in an interview with Newsweek. Their story is one of the great romances of World War II. Between the uncertainty and global conflict, many soldiers, like her father, made lifelong connections during their time abroad. DiGeorge chronicled their love story in her book Liberty Lady: A True Story of Love and Espionage in WWII Sweden and spoke with Newsweek about how the war brought her parents together in the Swedish capital. Before her venture to Sweden, Hedvig Johnson Allen had recently graduated from secretarial school and was working in Washington, D.C. After a brief stint at IRS, which she found to be boring, she found work at the Office of Strategic Services (OSS). She was sent to London in early 1944 and remained there until August, when she was sent to Sweden, DiGeorge said. Count Folke Bernadotte, Hevdig Johnson Allen and Herman Allen appear in Stockholm, Sweden. Count Folke Bernadotte, Hevdig Johnson Allen and Herman Allen appear in Stockholm, Sweden. Liberty Lady: A True Story of Love and Espionage in WWII Sweden by Pat DiGeorge Herman Allen, meanwhile, served as an airman in the war. His B-17 bomber landed off the coast of Sweden on the island of Gotland. He and other airmen were taken to Sweden to be "interned," DiGeorge said. They were treated well but were not permitted to leave the country, she said. At first, Herman Allen was sent to be interned in the northern part of the country. But after about a month, his typing skills landed him a job as a typist at the American legation in Stockholm, DiGeorge said. Inside 'Romantic and Exciting' Stockholm Sweden stayed neutral during the war, making Stockholm an "exciting place to be," DiGeorge said. It was a city where Americans, Britons and Germans all lived as their countries were involved in the conflict. In the nightclubs, everybody would be "talking and trying to see what they could find out," DiGeorge said, adding there were also "lots of spices" and "lots of intrigue." "When my mother went into Stockholm, she wrote that the lights were on," DiGeorge said. "She had come from London where they weren't allowed to have lights on at night. There had been no bombs. Everything was beautiful. People were out on the streets." Herman and Hedvig Allen Meet DiGeorge said her parents met on her father's first day of work at the American legation. "They took him to the American legation—today it would be the embassy—and in the back of it was the intelligence service," she said. "And that was the day he met my mother. He always told us that he took one look at her and he said, 'You're for me.'" The couple had a quick but lovely courtship, she said. They met in August and got married in January. As their romance blossomed, Herman Allen continued work at the American legation, where he would debrief internees to try to identify spies, she said. During that time, he met the head of American counterespionage in Sweden, a man named Bill Carlson. Carlson asked him to befriend a Swede suspected of selling secrets to Germany. He did just that and gathered enough information to secure his arrest. But the U.S. government decided it was best to have Herman Allen return to the United States for his protection—meaning the couple would need to separate. A Whirlwind Romance and Wedding Facing a return to the U.S., the couple decided to bring forward their wedding, originally planned for February 1949, to January—with some help from Swedish royalty. Count Folke Bernadotte, the nephew of Sweden's King Gustav V and a colleague of Herman Allen, helped arrange a ceremony for the couple before he had to depart, at the city's historic Gustav Adolf Church. They wed on January 18, 1945, DiGeorge said. Herman and Hevdig Allen get married in Stockholm, Sweden. Herman and Hevdig Allen get married in Stockholm, Sweden. Liberty Lady: A True Story of Love and Espionage in WWII Sweden by Pat DiGeorge "It was, I'm sure, the event of the season," she said. "It hit the newspapers the next day, the Swedish newspapers, with a picture of Count Bernadotte. I've been to the church twice. It's really lovely." Her father then returned to the U.S. because his role in the spy case could serve as a "distraction," as nobody was supposed to know the American legation was engaged in intelligence efforts, she said. "No one was supposed be a spy in neutral Sweden, so everything had to be done underground," she said. "It was never supposed to be talked about, but of course everyone knew." Hedvig Allen Remains in Sweden Her father returned to the U.S., but Hedvig Allen stayed in Sweden for work for several months. The couple communicated by "beautiful letters," DiGeorge said. She stayed in Europe through Victory in Europe Day—May 8, 1945. However, Hedvig Allen would soon return to the U.S. herself—because she was pregnant with DiGeorge. The Allens Settle in Florida After the war, the couple settled in Bartow, Florida, where her father remained in charge of cadets at the local air base, DiGeorge said, recounting how her mother described the transition as a shock—going from the cold, northern city of Stockholm to the warmer, humid U.S. state. "They made a good life," she said. "They had five children and then moved to Columbia, South Carolina, in the late '60s and were there until they retired and passed on." DiGeorge said that researching her parents' story was the "most fun" she's ever had. It took her to Sweden twice as well as the National Archives and the Air University Library in Montgomery, Alabama. "It was a beautiful love story with a big family they left behind," she said. "I wish I could tell my mother about everything that's happened since their story came out. She would be so surprised."
